A Little Bit of Seasonal Style
by BroflovskiFan
Summary: StanKyle. Cold weather, interrupting mothers, frozen bangs and of course a little hot seasonal action. Happy holiday of your choice readers. [ONESHOT]


A Little Bit of Seasonal Style

StanKyle. Cold weather, interrupting mothers, frozen bangs and of course a little hot seasonal action. Happy holiday of your choice readers. ONESHOT

:/ Probably the dirtiest thing I've ever written. Not too bad, though. For my lovely wife Tara, who deserves lots of muffins just for existing.

Winter in South Park was cold. So cold, in fact, that even fewer people ventured outside than usual, and the small town resembled one that was deserted, or at least one that had had all the parents taken away due to wrong accusations involving the 'M' word.

The day in which this story is situated was particularly cold. Most of the stores were closed for the day, dogs were seen humping on the streets in an effort to keep warm and one certain boy awoke to find several homeless men sleeping in his room. After some persuasion, he managed to get them out before his parents found out, accompanied with several bottles of wine and other such liquor found in his cellar. A full month later, his parents would wonder where the missing alcohol had gone to, immediately assuming their son had something to do with it. The boy was promptly grounded for the next three months.

I am getting off subject. Anyways, as was stated before, this day was particularly cold. This day was also particularly close to the 25th of December, leaving all schools empty and most parents home for several days before returning to their grueling and sometimes pointless jobs within the town. Two of the town's boys were quite frustrated with the cold turns of events, as it had ruined their chances of going toboganning as well as getting some time alone together for the first times in weeks.

Now, these boys weren't ones to be little pussies and stop their plans on account of the cold, but they had decided to retreat indoors after bundling up with several layers as well as multiple hats, scarves and gloves and venturing outside. Within five minutes, the boys were shaking in their three layers of snow pants. It didn't help that when the darker haired of the two had tried to brush his frozen bangs from his face with his many mittened hand, several of the strands of black hair had broken off, falling to the ground and thus shattering with a noise far louder than what should have been made naturally. The other red-haired boy had gone to laugh at his friends' new look, but upon opening his mouth he had found his tongue stuck to the metal of his retainer, and was unable to get it off until they had run back to the former's house and run his mouth under hot water.

"Goddamnit, this sucks," Stan Marsh declared, glaring at the TV that played the same overrated holiday movies as was custom every year. He groaned as the Grinch once again tried to steal Christmas. "Damnit, your plan's not going to work!" He cried out at the television. "Sure you'll steal all the Christmas shit, but then you'll start caring about the little Cindy Lu bitch and your heart will grow and then you'll cut up some fucked up version of a turkey and everything will be all right! It's so repetitive!" Stan let out a small scream of exasperation and fell back onto the couch, huffing.

Kyle, on the other hand, was much more fascinated with staring at his friend's bangs, half of which were missing, giving him a rather silly look.

"How… do bangs SHATTER?" He pondered aloud, licking his lips with his sore tongue. He reached over to touch a remaining bang, trying not to snicker at it broke off in his hand. Stan glared at him, angry with his further loss of hair while Kyle discarded the piece. It fell to the floor, making an even louder shattering noise as the tiny piece of hair split into a thousand shards and disappeared.

"How… does something SHATTER, on carpet?" Kyle further wondered.

At this time Stan's mother, Mrs. Marsh came running frantically into the room, looking at the two boys accusingly.

"Okay boys, what'd you break this time?" She looked at the two sternly.

"Stan's hair," Kyle replied without missing a beat. Stan turned to look at his mother, pouting. Mrs. Marsh's eyes widened as she noticed her son's expression and more visible forehead. She finally dismissed the matter. "Oh well, you needed a haircut anyways Stanley." She didn't ask how the hell the shattering noise had been possible with hair. In South Park, these circumstances were seen on a daily basis, accepted and moved past.

Stan turned to face his super best friend as his mother exited the room. "Thanks a whole fucking lot, Kyle," he said, still pouting angrily. Because pouts can be angry like that.

"I can't believe it's STILL frozen," Kyle said, ignoring his friend's anger. "We've been inside for like an hour now."

Stan, determined on getting his revenge, lunged forwards and tugged on a lock of Kyle's hair, expecting it to break off much as his had. However, it seemed that since all of Kyle's hair was tucked neatly under his well loved ushanka, it had resisted being frozen as Stan's bangs had. The result was that Kyle's head was jerked towards Stan as his hair was viciously yanked.

"Ow, dude! What the hell?" Kyle groaned, rubbing at his head.

"Yours didn't break," Stan pointed out rather blatantly.

Kyle scowled. "Why the hell would it?"

"No fair!" Stan exclaimed, pouting even more than previously.

Kyle had to admit Stan's pout WAS rather adorable, despite the fact he was obviously irritated. "Dude, you'd just look better without all your bangs at this point."

"I like my bangs!" Stan protested, covering them with his hand. However, in the process he had brushed against a few of them, snapping even more of them off. They fell down Stan's face and shattered in his lap. "AAAAAAUGH!" Stan screamed out, devastated by this outcome.

Kyle couldn't help but snicker at the traumatized expression on his poor friend's face. "Stan, let me just get rid of the rest of them. You look like a douche."

"But – my bangs – " Stan said, brokenly looking at his lap.

"They're mostly gone now anyways, come on dude you'll look better," Kyle prodded him. Stan grimaced before sighing defeatedly and turning his head towards his friend, leaning forwards slightly. He closed his eyes, grimacing as he heard repeated snaps and shatters similar to that of broken glass.

After several moments, Stan stopped hearing the horrific sound effects. "That's it," he heard Kyle say, and Stan opened his eyes and wrinkled his nose.

"My forehead's cold," he complained, resuming his former pouty face.

"You don't look all that bad!" Kyle tried to comfort Stan. "You needed a change anyways."

Stan grabbed a mirror conveniently placed on the coffee table and examined his own reflection. He had to admit, it didn't look as terrible as he had been expecting. For some reason, when his bangs had been removed the hair closest to them had formed side bangs of a sort, falling loosely at the sides of his head. It didn't even look like he was missing any hair on the front of his head at all. But he still looked off. "I don't look like me!" He groaned, tossing the mirror back onto the table.

Kyle wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "You look hot," he said in a lowered voice. This new turn of events intrigued Stan, and he turned to face his fifteen year old friend.

"Oh really?" He asked, inquiringly.

"Yeah," Kyle said before immediately changing the subject. "Hey, what about the rest of your hair? Does THAT shatter too?" He reached a hand out to touch the side of Stan's head.

Stan yelped, jumping backwards before almost falling off of the couch. "No way dude! You may think I look better without bangs but I definitely do NOT look better bald!"

"Relax Stan, it was under your hat, it's probably fine!" Kyle advanced on Stan, who took another jump backwards, this time actually falling off of the couch. Before Stan had a chance to scramble away, Kyle leapt off the side, pinning him down to the ground.

"Get off of me!" Stan cried out, viciously struggling in vain under Kyle's grasp. Kyle paid no heed to this though, as he shot a hand out and brushed the side of Stan's head with his fingers. Stan's lower lip trembled as he shut his eyes, face contorted into an

expression that was clearly expecting the worst. He waited to hear a snap as he felt Kyle's fingers in his hair…

And nothing came. After a few moments of feeling Kyle's fingers exploring his hair, he opened his eyes.

"Am I bald?" Stan asked Kyle fearfully, and sighed in relief when Kyle shook his head.

"No dude, I told you you were fine," Kyle stated distractedly. He had always enjoyed the feeling of Stan's soft hair under his hands.

"Well if you knew why did you need to touch it?" Stan demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"I wanted to see for myself," the other boy murmured. He continued to run his hands through Stan's hair.

Nearly a minute passed and Kyle was still touching Stan's hair and sitting on his stomach. Stan began to get nervous; his mother could walk in at any time. "Dude, stop groping my head."

"Mhhm," Kyle responded, closing his eyes. Stan finally got the strength to throw Kyle off of him. "Augh dude, stop it!" He cried out. The family room wasn't the place for anything like that. Stan returned to the couch, sitting on it as Kyle got up, scowling at his boyfriend.

"I can't help it dude, it's been way too long," he complained, sitting on the couch beside Stan.

Stan nodded in agreement. "I'm dying here dude," he overemphasized. "And now the cold has not only ruined my bangs, but also my chances! Damn you cold!" Stan shook his fist at the sky. Or rather, the ceiling of the room.

Kyle sighed, laying his head on Stan's shoulder. "We need a plan," he stated.

Stan leaned in to kiss Kyle's big Jew nose, but was stopped halfway when his mother reentered the room, carrying a vacuum. She passed through, seemingly unaware of that fact that her son and his best friend were probably a little closer than how friends should normally be. She also seemed quite unaware of the visible sexual tension than ran as green and blue lightning bolts between the two boys.

"Goddamnit," Stan muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose while Kyle moaned something in Hebrew. The gods seemed quite certain to make sure that both boys never got to lay a finger on each other again, let alone laying down on top of each other, or getting LAID at that.

"Oh Stanley, by the way I'm running out to do some last minute Christmas shopping for your cousins," Mrs. Marsh called out from the other room. "Will you be alright home alone for a little while? Your father probably won't be home for another few hours yet – he's still monitoring the volcano for signs of activity. And your sister is out at the mall with her friends."

Stan's jaw dropped, taking back every negative thing he had ever said about God. "Uh, yeah, I'll be fine," he said a little too excitedly, while Kyle wondered if it was a normal procedure in the Marsh household to state where exactly every member of the family was at any given time.

"Are you sure? I can call your sister to come home if you don't feel comfortable-"

"Mom! I'm fifteen!" Stan called back exasperatedly.

"Okay sweetheart. But are you sure-"

"MOM!"

Kyle snickered at his boyfriend's blushing face. "Little Stanny wanny can't be home alone, huh?" He hissed at him.

"Shut up," Stan hissed back, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. "Just watch the stupid show until she leaves."

Stan's mother left around four minutes before the TV movie ended.

"Come on Kyyyle," Stan tugged at the other boy's sleeve anxiously.

Kyle shook Stan off, eyes glued to the TV. "But I wanna see if the Grinch really does steal Christmas!"

"Kyle!" Stan practically shrieked at him. "He gives all the presents back and they eat the messed up turkey! That's it!"

Kyle's eyes finally met Stan's. "Relax, I'm just messing with you," he laughed.

"Not now!" Stan grabbed Kyle's arm and yanked him off the couch, dragging him all the way up the stairs and into his room, throwing him rather viciously inside and slamming the door shut.

"We really need to get locks on our doors," Kyle observed relatively calmly as Stan tackled him to the floor, missing the bed and thus the point of being in his room entirely.

Not that it mattered. Kyle enjoyed the feeling of his slightly taller friend on top of him, savouring a moment they had not had in ages. It wasn't easy for two horny teenage boys to have to keep a super secret relationship.

"Mmm, this is nice," Stan commented before slipping his tongue into his boyfriend's mouth, running his hands down the sides of his body and eventually coming to rest around Kyle's waist.

Kyle snort-moaned into Stan's mouth as his wise ass retort 'No shit,' was muffled by the fact that Kyle had very limited availability to talk between making out. Kyle rolled over, intending to place himself on top of Stan but seeing as Stan's room was fairly small, he ended up making it halfway before Stan's head smacked against his bed frame.

"Ow dude, what the fuck?" Stan said, parting from Kyle's mouth and rubbing his head, wincing.

"Sorry," Kyle said, panting slightly. He pulled Stan to his feet before picking him up, much to the other boy's surprise seeing as he weighed a decent amount more than his smaller friend, and dropping him on the bed, quickly clambering on top himself.

Their lips met once more with equally lusty grunts, or as lusty as grunts can be.

Kyle placed himself so that his legs were on either side of Stan's, groins rubbing together slightly through the material of their jeans.

"Fuck Kyle, I missed this so much," Stan let out in one breath once their lips drew apart again. Stan ran his hands up Kyle's back then back down, tugging at the bottom of his sweater, which came off not long afterwards. Soon both boys were shirtless and groping each other's chests and backs with such fervour as when a person has been deprived of said encounters for too long.

Stan's hands traveled further south as he rolled back over on top of Kyle again, claiming dominance over the other boy. He slipped his hand between Kyle's skin and jeans, reaching inside of his boxers to grab hold of what he wanted. As Kyle closed his eyes, lips parted slightly as he breathed, Stan started to rub.

The results were satisfying. Kyle almost immediately reacted, squirming slightly and arching his back underneath Stan as he let out a groan that sounded remarkably similar to his partner's name. His hands flailed for a moment before gaining a firm grasp of his lover's back, hands running up and down it as Stan continued to rub. After a few moments Kyle brought both hands between their bodies and started to unzip and pull down Stan's jeans. Stan kicked them off the rest of the way before letting go of Kyle and going back to his mouth. It wasn't long before their lips parted again; Kyle had moved on in favour of Stan's neck, kissing and biting gently as Stan sighed his super best friend's name.

Kyle continued on downward, gently pushing Stan sideways and eventually over as he worked his way down his body, kissing his collarbone, licking a nipple and eventually biting him just above the navel, one of Stan's most sensitive spots.

"Ga-God, fuck Kyle," Stan hissed as Kyle continued to work on the area for a moment longer as he pulled his boyfriend's boxers down and off his body. Once the task was completed, he worked his way further downwards until they hit the targeted spot.

Stan moaned, raising his hips ever so slightly as he felt Kyle's mouth engulf his member. As Kyle's head started to bob, Stan's hands found his way into Kyle's hair, tilting his head back and allowing himself to be consumed with pure ecstasy.

Stan stopped immediately when he realized he was reaching his boiling point already, and he wasn't nearly done yet. He grabbed the sides of Kyle's face, pulling him off of his lower area as he sat up. Kyle roughly allowed himself to be put into a sitting position on the edge of the bed as Stan finished removing Kyle's own pants. Moments later they were on the floor and it was Kyle's hands in Stan's hair.

Kyle cried out in Hebrew and Stan decided at that point it was time for the final step. Shoving Kyle backwards onto his bed once more, he sat on Kyle's abdomen as he reached out across to his desk to pull out a condom and a small tube of lubricant.

What Stan and Kyle did next was far too hot to be described using only the English language, or really any language at all. So for fear of ruining the moment, I will leave it up to your imaginations to decide what happened next, but sources have told me that it was the hottest thing they'd ever seen, and upon opening of a window all the trees and plant life in the neighbourhood would probably have been vaporized from the sheer humidity. All I will say is that a short while later Stan and Kyle finished their session with a mighty battle cry given in unison before collapsing exhausted onto each other, arms and legs intertwining until they became indistinguishable as to whose was whose.

A few moments later, a very exhausted but happy and well loved Stan Marsh raised his head slightly to nuzzle it against his best friend's, whispering a single phrase into the other boy's half asleep ear:

"Happy non-denominational winter holiday of your choosing, Kyle."

End


End file.
